


Marriage of convenience

by Vault_Emblem



Category: Fire Emblem Series, Fire Emblem: Soen no Kiseki/Akatsuki no Megami | Fire Emblem Path of Radiance/Radiant Dawn
Genre: Angst with a Happy Ending, Arranged Marriage, Declarations Of Love, F/M, First Kiss, Hurt/Comfort, Post-Canon, Self-Esteem Issues, appearances of Almedha, appearances of Sothe, appearances of Tibarn, but they actually love each other
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-04-14
Updated: 2020-04-14
Packaged: 2021-03-02 02:35:51
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,020
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23647834
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Vault_Emblem/pseuds/Vault_Emblem
Summary: At the discovery of Pelleas' true heritage, a decision is taken: instead of revealing the truth, Micaiah will marry Pelleas, serving as Daein's actual queen.Thing is, Pelleas isn't so sure about this. Not that he minds marrying her, but... she deserves so much more.
Relationships: Micaiah/Pelleas (Fire Emblem)
Comments: 2
Kudos: 11





	Marriage of convenience

**Author's Note:**

> I FINALLY DID IT!!  
> To tell the truth, I started the first wip at least two years ago, but I never finished it. The finished fic turned out much different from what I originally thought, but you know what? It's ok. I'm just happy to have finally finished it.

At the time it seemed like the best solution, but Pelleas isn’t so sure anymore.

It’s only a very restricted group of people that knows that he isn’t actually Almedha and Ashnard’s son, so nobody would question it, considering her huge part in the last events, but marrying Micaiah wouldn’t be right for her. She should just take the crown while he steps back, but an arranged marriage was the best solution not to raise suspects, they said.

Micaiah has accepted, but surely she’s done it more out of her sense of duty towards Daein’s people than anything else.

Sothe has objected, of course, and for once he and Pelleas were on the same page.

He doesn’t know exactly how deep his relationship with Micaiah runs, but nobody would ever dream to deny that the two are very close, so it’s understandable that he feels protective towards her even, and especially, when it comes to these matters.

When they cross each other again, days after the meeting where the decision has been taken, surprisingly he doesn’t glare at him, nor he threatens him like Pelleas thought he was going to do. He just says:

\- At least try to be good to her, she deserves it -.

“No she doesn’t”, he wants to say, “She deserves even better”.

He doesn’t open his mouth however, and instead he nods.

\- I’ll do my best -, he says then, and that seems to be enough for Sothe, who leaves him alone.

If only it could be enough for himself too…

He looks for Almedha that same day; she’s still living inside the castle after all.

He hasn’t been able to completely push her away after he told her that he isn’t her real son: she told him that, despite the truth, she still loves him, and when she asked him if he could allow her to continue to love him as a son, he couldn’t bring himself to say no.

It’s selfish of him, he knows it, but… but feeling a mother’s love towards him is too good of a sensation for him to lose; at this point he has considered her family for so long that it would be weird suddenly having to stop doing it.

When he confronts her about his doubts, she says that it’s the best thing for Daein, and he wants to believe her, but in all good conscience, he can’t.

She motions for him to come closer and she hugs him.

\- Everything will be fine. I know it’s scary, but I’ll be there for you -, she says, caressing his hair with a tenderness that Pelleas has begun to get acquainted with only recently.

He closes his eyes, and for a moment he’s able to forget about Daein and everything else.

He goes to find Micaiah the day before their wedding – it takes him more than he thought to finally gather enough courage to do so.

It’s not that he’s been avoiding her… actually, he has. He hasn’t done it out of malice, however, but out of fear: if this situation is so stressful for him, he can only imagine how stressful it’s being for her, the one who will have to marry someone like him.

He can’t stop thinking about how quickly time has passed as he lightly knocks at her door.

Her voice is as gentle as ever as she tells him to come in, and Pelleas hesitantly steps inside.

\- Good evening, Pelleas -, Micaiah greets him. It’s been a while since she started addressing him only by his name and not his title, and to tell the truth, it makes Pelleas feel way more comfortable.

\- Hello, Micaiah -, he mutters back.

He’s always felt nervous around her: it didn’t feel right for someone like him to be in her presence, now more than ever, even though it is true that, as of late, this feeling has subsided, even if just a bit.

Even now, however, his nervousness obfuscates his mind, and he doesn’t know what to say exactly, something that Micaiah notices.

\- Is there something you want to talk about? -.

\- I… -.

\- I’m sorry! -.

Now Micaiah looks at him perplexed.

\- For what? -, she asks, - Did you do something? -.

\- No, well. I… -.

Damn, he’s not making things better, isn’t he? Oh well, when does he ever?

He’s got to breathe. Breathe…

Alright, he feels calmer now.

\- It’s just, well… -, he gestures around himself, - This -.

Micaiah nods as if she understood what he means, and Pelleas really hopes it’s the case. He doesn’t want to explain it out loud.

\- It’s unconventional, I know -, she says, - But these kinds of marriage happen all the time. I knew that it was going to happen, eventually -.

\- You knew you were going to marry me? -.

\- Well, I didn’t predict this exact marriage, but… -.

Micaiah hesitates for a moment, and Pelleas wonders if there’s something wrong.

\- Pelleas, can I be honest with you? -, she asks, and Pelleas nods, though he’s afraid of what she’s going to say.

He would understand if she’s displeased with this situation. He wouldn’t blame her at all if that were the case.

\- Of course -.

\- I’m glad it’s with you, of all people -.

… What?

\- Do you really mean it? -, he asks, uncertain of what he just heard.

\- Of course -, Micaiah replies, - I wouldn’t lie to you about this -.

\- Unless… -, and there’s a pause, - You’re the one who’s unhappy with our current predicament? -.

Oh. Oh no. She’s got it all wrong.

\- N-no, you misunderstand me -, he reassures her, - It’s just that… -.

_It’s just that he wishes she was doing it for love and not for duty._

\- I’m sorry that you had to be forced to do all this -.

Micaiah doesn’t reply immediately. She stares at Pelleas, and stares and stares, like she’s trying to read his own very soul – and knowing her powers, it wouldn’t be that unlikely. Pelleas just hopes she isn’t going too far: he knows that he’s easy to read, but he doesn’t want her to find out about his feelings for her, especially not now considering what will happen the next day. Wouldn’t it make things awkward and uncomfortable, more than they are now already?

He didn’t expect Micaiah to take his hand. He should say something, but he remains unmoving.

\- Oh Pelleas -, she says, sounding almost like she’s pitying him, but she can’t be, right?

\- When will you stop hating yourself? -.

That is a difficult question. It’s not that Pelleas isn’t trying – he tries so hard, every day, to be a better person – but… his entire life has been full of mistakes – first one, being born – so it isn’t exactly easy.

For all his good intentions, he hasn’t done one good thing, but what he hates most is how much Micaiah still believes in him, is how much Almedha loves him even though he’s not actually her son, is how much Tauroneo encourages him despite everything, is how much even Sothe is – although begrudgingly – on his side. He wants to be worthy of this support, and he doesn’t feel like he’s reached that point yet.

\- One day, maybe -, is all that he manages to mutter, and even just that feels like a lot, though he would be feeling much worse if he was having these thoughts alone. As always, Micaiah’s presence brings him comfort.

\- You’re a good man, Pelleas -, she says, her hands tightening their grip on Pelleas’ own ones, - I’ve always known. That’s why I’ve always been on your side -.

Even his self-doubt can do little against Micaiah’s honesty. Pelleas knows she’s telling the truth.

\- You’ve made your mistakes, but everybody makes them! That doesn’t mean that I don’t believe in you anymore… or that I’m unhappy to marry you -.

Does… does she really mean _that?_

There are many things Pelleas wants to ask her, many things that is sure Micaiah would have no problems answering, but… it’s getting late, and they should both rest. Tomorrow is an important day after all.

There’s also a bit of cowardice behind this decision: Pelleas is too afraid to hear what she’ll have to say.

\- I should leave you to rest. I’m sorry I bothered you at this hour -, he says then, already beginning to make a few steps away from Micaiah.

He doesn’t even give her the time to reply before he reaches the door, but he does turn to her one last time before making his exit.

\- Goodnight, Micaiah -.

\- … Goodnight, Pelleas -.

But he’s already gone.

The next day, preparations begin very early in the morning.

It feels weird walking around wearing such a formal regalia, Pelleas thinks. He must look at least twice bigger than he actually is.

He can’t help it but to find this ridiculous, but he must follow the protocol, so there really is nothing he can do about it.

Hopefully everyone will be too distracted by Micaiah to notice it. Oh yes, it surely will go this way: of all the people who are attending the ceremony, he doubts anyone is there for him. Usually, this would make him feel sick, but for once it actually feels reassuring knowing that he won’t be the center of attention.

He wonders how much pressure Micaiah must be feeling right now. He wouldn’t want to be in her place right now, that’s for sure.

When Almedha sees him, there’s a smile on her face, and her eyes are watery.

\- You look like such a fine gentleman -, she says, with a proud and loving voice.

Pelleas can’t help but to feel warm inside at that statement. Is this how motherly love feels? Ah, it doesn’t matter; whatever this is, he’s glad he at least has this.

\- Mother… -, he mutters.

He hasn’t stopped calling her that, first of all because people would get suspicious if he suddenly stopped, and second of all… because he likes it, and she clearly likes it too, so why shouldn’t he keep doing it?

She looks like she’s about to cry any second now, but Pelleas manages to make her laugh with a small joke.

\- Mother don’t cry. Your make-up… -.

It’s not much of a joke and more of a statement, but it brings a smile to Almedha’s face anyway, so he’s happy.

\- You’re right. Wouldn’t want to ruin all the work that went behind it -.

\- Are you ready? -.

Pelleas’ heart screams _no_ , but he knows that isn’t an acceptable response, so the only thing he can do is to lie.

\- I am -.

He’s going to die of nervousness, this is what he thinks as he forces himself to stay still and not pace back and forth like a madman.

They’re all reunited for the ceremony, everybody with the exception of Micaiah – and Sothe, who will carry her to the altar. She’ll be there shortly, but there’s something inside Pelleas’ brain that is trying really hard to convince him that she ran away.

He wouldn’t blame her if she did. It is a pretty scary situation.

He tries to distract himself by scanning the first rows. As expected for such an event, the entirety of Tellius’ royalty is present.

It should agitate Pelleas more, but in a weird way it does not: he knows these people, he fought with some of them even. It’s actually almost comforting having them there.

He gets distracted when Micaiah’s arrival is announced.

It’s time.

If Pelleas wasn’t dying before, he definitely is now, when he turns and sees Micaiah advancing towards him, with Sothe accompanying her.

She looks ethereal, prettier than the Goddess herself. She truly is beautiful.

The white garb she’s wearing only accentuates her beauty, and Pelleas has to remind himself how to breathe. She looks radiant, way too much for a simple political marriage, but Pelleas’ glad she at least looks happy; if she made her way to him all gloomy and resigned, he would’ve called this whole thing off.

\- H-hi -, he manages to mutter, once she reaches him.

Micaiah smiles at him, and Pelleas as no idea how he manages not to pass out on the spot.

Some of his nervousness must be evident, however, because before joining the rest of the important people, Sothe pats his arm in what can be only described as an awkward attempt to be encouraging. Nonetheless, Pelleas appreciates the gesture.

\- You’re beautiful -, he manages to whisper, surprising even himself with such boldness, but seeing her like that has really moved something inside him.

\- You too -, Micaiah replies, and Pelleas wonders if she truly means it.

The ceremony goes smoothly, too smoothly.

Not that Pelleas minds it, it’s just that… it feels surreal, having something going well without repercussions. He doesn’t even fumble when he speaks his vows, incredible.

It’s weird: even though he knows this is purely political, seeing her smile made him believe that maybe there’s hope, that maybe love can blossom from this union.

He wants to do good by her, he wants to be a worthy husband.

Anything to see that smile again.

He hears a sniffle behind him, and he turns. Almedha’s trying so hard not to show it, but a tear has managed to find its way out, a tear that she immediately dries with a handkerchief, not wanting anyone to notice it.

Still, Pelleas smiles at her, and she smiles back. She looks so proud of him, something that makes him genuinely happy.

For once, and despite everything, he feels pretty proud of himself too.

As it is custom for these kinds of weddings, they don’t kiss. They all know it’s a political move, so why bother with pleasantries?

It’s like a slap to the face for Pelleas, a reminder that this isn’t real. He cannot help but to curse his himself: why is he so volatile? His hope should be stronger, but alas, he has to be reminded again of his weakness.

Once everything is over, however, as they make their way outside to meet Daein’s people, Pelleas feels Micaiah’s hand holding his own. He looks down and yes, he isn’t dreaming: he can clearly see their fingers intertwined.

It’s dreamy how warm and soft her hand is, just like he always imagined.

Oh, wait, maybe it’s too weird to be staring for so much time! He looks up, and he meets Micaiah’s eyes, looking at him with a mischievous tingle in his eyes.

Pelleas hopes he’s not blushing.

During the celebrations, Pelleas is hauled from person to person. There’s people who congratulate him, people who ask him in the most fake voice how he’s doing and if he needs anything, others, like Tibarn, mercilessly tease him.

\- Looks like it’s time for you to be a man, hm? -, he says, with a smirk on his face that makes evident what he’s talking about.

Pelleas can’t help but to blubber his response, response that nobody gets because his voice is merely a whisper anyway, and he walks away as soon as he can, Tibarn’s laugh that follows him all the way to the balcony.

It’s not as bad as it once was, however.

He remembers the children’s laugh, back at the orphanage. They used to mock him, bully him to tears, and they would laugh so much at him.

This laugh, however, is different from those from back then: it isn’t a mocking laugh, or at least there’s a tiny hint of friendliness in it that makes Pelleas believe so.

Once he’s finally at the balcony, he shivers for the cold air, but eventually he sighs of relief.

Finally, he can spend some time alone with his thoughts…

\- Oh, you’re here too -.

Or maybe not.

He recognizes that voice immediately, even before Micaiah steps in his field of vision. She looks more tired than before, but after all so does he.

\- Micaiah! Were you resting here too? -.

\- Yes, it was beginning to get… a bit much -, she replies. Pelleas understands her perfectly.

\- That’s why I’m here too -.

Silence falls. They can still hear music coming from inside, along with voices of people talking and cheering.

Pelleas shifts his weight on his right foot, a bit uncomfortable. Isn’t he supposed to say something? He should, but he seems unable to find the words, and neither does Micaiah. Maybe it’s fine this way, maybe they are supposed not to say anything.

They know they’ll have to get back eventually, but for now they can enjoy this moment of pause, this moment of quiet away from everything.

When Micaiah offers him her hand, Pelleas looks up at her. He has been so lost in his thoughts that he doesn’t even know how much time has passed.

\- Shall we go back? -.

He doesn’t want to. He wants to stay there, with Micaiah, isolated from everything, but he knows they can’t have that. They have a part to play, after all.

\- Yes -, he says then, gently taking her hand, squeezing it in an attempt to be comforting.

Soon they’ll be able to retire for the night; he just needs to resist some more.

When they’re finally able to leave the festivities and be alone, they both let out the sigh of relief they’ve been holding until they got to their chambers. It’s finally over.

They’re still expected to sleep together – as in, literally sleep, nobody expects anything else – but… Pelleas is nervous, of course.

It feels surreal that now he’ll be much closer to Micaiah even if, in reality, nothing has changed. This has to be what hurts most, but he supposes he should be happy about what he has. Most people would die to be in his place, so it wouldn’t be fair of him to complain.

\- Finally, it’s over -, Micaiah mutters, snapping Pelleas out of his thoughts.

\- Y-yes -.

\- I think we should turn in for the night, is that all right with you? -.

Thankfully, Micaiah’s back is turned to him, so she can’t see how much that simple question manages to shake him. Right…

Maybe a good night of sleep will help him.

As if to mock him, sleep doesn’t come easily to Pelleas.

He’s forcing himself to stay still, lying on his side with his back turned to Micaiah, when all he wants to do is to twist and turn, trying to spend all this energy that he somehow has now, but he knows that he would disturb her sleep if he moves as he’d want to.

Even trying to relax his mind is fruitless, as Pelleas can’t stop thinking about the fact that he’s sleeping beside her, that all he’d have to do is to turn around and he would see her, that he could even touch her if he so chooses, brushing his fingers against her hair, something he has wanted to do for a while.

Pelleas can’t help but to feel guilty about it: she trusts him, and he would so readily betray her trust by having… thoughts.

He can’t help himself, but maybe he’s not trying hard enough. He should stop hoping for something that will never happen, no matter how much he wants it.

And so, he stays there, eyes wide open even though he barely sees a thing, body tired and mind tense… until something happens.

At first he doesn’t give it much thought when he hears Micaiah shift behind him, believing that she’s still asleep, but as an arm drapes around him, and a gentle voice asks him “What’s wrong?” it doesn’t take him much to understand that it isn’t the case.

\- I’m sorry… did I wake you up? -.

\- _Pelleas_ -.

She knows he’s trying to change the subject, Pelleas understands it immediately, and yet he can’t help but to pretend that everything’s fine. He cannot possibly tell her how he feels.

He freezes when he feels something brushing his hair; it’s so outlandish for him that he actually needs a moment to realize that it’s Micaiah the one doing it, despite the fact that there’s nobody else with them.

\- I can sense that you are tense -, she says, her voice kind and soft, - Are you regretting this? -.

\- No, not at all! -, Pelleas replies, a bit too loud maybe. He just… he just acted impulsively; normally he would try to be more composed in the way he answers, but he doesn’t want Micaiah to think that he’s regretting this, or that this is her fault, because it isn’t. He is the one who’s acting weird, and all because he cannot stop these feelings he has for her.

\- It’s just… -.

He’s torn: on one hand, he wants to be finally free of this burden and tell her, on the other he knows there’s the risk of ruining everything if he does. Doesn’t she deserve to know, however? It would be only fair.

Thinking about it… wouldn’t she know already? Pelleas has done his best not to let any strong feeling surface when she’s nearby, but he doubts he did that good of a job; she must’ve sensed something, right?

Micaiah’s voice breaks the silence.

\- I thought it would be best to wait until you were ready -.

So…

\- You knew, huh? -, Pelleas mutters, more to himself that her actually, before adding, - And you still did this? -.

This time, he manages to look at her.

\- Why? -.

He doesn’t mean to sound accusatory, but he’s genuinely curious and he needs to know. A spark of hope reignites inside him again: maybe he’s been a fool all this time, doubting himself. Maybe… maybe his feelings might be returned, after all.

There’s such tenderness in the way Micaiah caresses his face that Pelleas almost cries.

\- I didn’t want to pressure you into admitting it -, she replies, her voice soft as she bitterly smiles, - That was selfish of me, I apologize: I wanted to hear you say it spontaneously -.

\- If anyone’s selfish, it’s me -, Pelleas retorts, - I’m the one who agreed to this political marriage even though I actually… -.

Is he really admitting it? Well, what else does he have to lose?

He sighs.

\- When I actually am in love with you -.

\- Oh, Pelleas -.

She’s so close to him that he can feel her breath against his skin; he shivers, not daring to move out of fear of ruining this surreal atmosphere, but it’s hard not to, not when she’s inching closer.

\- I love you too -.

She kisses him.

Their lips barely brush against each other, but it means the world for Pelleas.

She said it, she really did. She loves him too.

This… this is incredible.

He doesn’t even know what kind of sound leaves his lips, just that he needs more, so he timidly presses further, and Micaiah lets him.

He raises his hands, but he doesn’t even know what to do with them: he wants to touch her, hold her, but where would be considerate appropriate and where would it not?

Thankfully, Micaiah steps in, guiding his hand to her hips, of which he tenderly takes hold, but it lasts only for a moment as he goes to fully embrace her, and they keep kissing, and they’re so close, and it’s so much that he can barely handle it.

They end up laying down again.

Pelleas begins to move his hands all across Micaiah’s body; he wants to know all of her, imprint it on his memory so that he’ll never forget.

Soon, however, the burning, the yearning, dies down, and their touches becomes soft; there’s no rush in the way they keep kissing – they have all the time in the world now that they’re married, after all.

When they pull away, Pelleas smiles. He can barely see her in the night, but he knows she must look beautiful.

\- All this time, and you… -, he chuckles, - I’ve been such a fool -.

\- We’re both fools, dancing around each other instead of admitting anything -, Micaiah intervenes. Yes, they’ve both been idiots, gigantic idiots.

Oh well, in the end it’s not so bad, isn’t it?

What else is he supposed to think, when he can finally hold Micaiah in his arms the way he’s dreamed of doing such a long time ago?

And to think that he was so afraid, but now at least he can see that his worries were unfounded.

For once, Pelleas is happy.


End file.
